Enslaved
by Lynn Bridgeport
Summary: A young woman who has lived with the elves all her life and who bares a strange mark is caught and becomes a personal slave to Murtagh.
1. Chapter 1

The market at Uru'Baen was bustling with so much activity that no one noticed the girl that slipped unseen through the crowd. Her head was covered with cloth—only a pair of uneven eyes showed.

Virika swayed with the crowd trying to find an exit. She hated crowds—there was no place to see your enemy. Her uneven eyes, one violet and the other blue, kept flicking from place to place. Her breathing was uneven as if from running when it was really the claustrophobia creeping up on her.

She stopped momentarily to step into an alley. Virika leaned against the stone building and took in a deep breath trying to steady herself. It had been a long time since she'd been in a crowd this large.

Virika adjusted her garment and bag. Her dress was long—to her ankles and covered with dust and grime from her travels. Under her dress she wore a pair of leggings which showed through when she moved; she had torn the sides of her dress. The slits were from the hem to her mid-thigh. Around her head she wore cloth, shielding herself from the outside world.

However hard Virika tried to conceal herself from the outside world, she knew that one false move could prove her downfall.

With her dress and bag safely in place Virika took a deep breath and once again stepped out into the crowded market place.

She hadn't been walking for long when she felt the hair on the back of her scalp stand on end. Someone was following her.

As surreptitiously as she dared, Virika turned to see who was tailing her through the market.

As she turned her sharp eyes caught the movement of a man. He was turned away from her, but his agitated movements and the flicker of his eyes back to her informed Virika that he was in fact following her.

No. Not her.

She followed the man's gaze once more as she pretended to be pondering some fruit on a fruit sellers stand.

He was watching her bag.

A common thief then. _Nothing to worry about_ Virika thought, _it's not the Empire who's following me. And the man is too obvious to be a spy._

Virika slipped away quickly once the man's gaze was no longer directed towards her. She sighed; she needed to be more careful.

Although technically in a time of war, the market was in full swing—the only hint of conflict was the number of soldiers roaming along with civilians.

These Virika avoided as if they had the plague. She had no desire to be captured and tortured.

That was why she wore the scarf—so that no one could see her pointed ears. The scarf wasn't necessary however; it just made her feel more concealed. Her ears only came to a slight point—if she wore her hair down, no one could tell. Although Virika was completely human, she had lived among the elves her entire seventeen years of life. Because of this she had been granted a few characteristics of elves.

Her ears were pointed, but that was not all. No, living with the elves had given her additional strength and speed which no ordinary human could match. Even with her strength and speed however, an elf could easily over power her.

So, Virika relied on her mind. She had come to Uru'Baen as a spy for Queen Islanzadi and she would not fail her mission. She was the obvious choice for a spy since she _was _a human and could fit in more easily.

Virika missed the quiet openness of Du Weldenvarden. This noisy, crowded market caused her nerves to tingle endlessly.

She stopped at a silver-smith's stall and acted as though she was looking at his wares intently. In reality she was listening to the gossip that was going on around her. Gossip was the quickest and safest way to glean information.

". . . Seems like there's another group of soldiers going out everyday now." The silver-smith, a portly man with long gray hair was saying to his companion, a tall man with a beard.

The man with a beard nodded. "I wonder what the King is planning on doing? Surely, he can crush the Varden without sending out more troupes."

The silver-smith leaned against his stall and crooked his finger signaling for his friend to come closer. He then said in a low voice, "I hear, that the Varden beat Murtagh and Thorn, but . . ." he looked around and Virika pretended to be completely focused on a necklace, "Somehow, that _new_ dragon rider beat him. The King was pretty darn upset; he even killed a few slaves. Not that he couldn't get more. I'm just saying, he wasn't happy."

Both men shuddered at the mad king's violent tendencies and Virika fought back the urge to shudder also. How could a man be so cruel? She moved on through the market, storing the information away to tell the Queen.

Virika had told none of her reports to the Queen as of yet, and was looking forward to telling her something important. Virika had basic magic skills—nothing fancy like the elves had. Scrying to contact the Queen would take all of her strength.

There was a slight shift in the crowd up ahead. A contingent of soldiers marched through and Virika stepped away, her back pressed against the wall of a house. She felt safer that way; no one could sneak up behind her.

With the soldiers gone, Virika resumed her lazy stroll through the market. Soon the sun was gone over the horizon and the stalls were closing. Virika left the market and started towards the inn where she had been staying.

Darkness fell swiftly on Uru'Baen. The streets were empty and Virika walked faster as an uneasy feeling crept up on her. Her eyes flashed to the empty doorways and alleys.

The feeling of uneasiness grew and Virika took a wrong turn, ending up in an alley with no exit. She turned to leave.

There in the mouth of the alley was the man she had spied eyeing her bag earlier. With him were two other burly men. Knowing that they meant to take her pack, Virika dropped to a crouch, her hands ready to snatch the daggers she had concealed within the sleeves of her dress. She wasn't much use with a sword—but with daggers she was deadly.

The men laughed at her stance and walked towards her, their faces smug.

Virika pulled her lips back into a soundless snarl.

The men were almost upon her. She hesitated wanting to know if for sure they meant her harm.

"Well, she's a feisty one, ain't she Daren?" the leader was a large man with a bushy beard and beady eyes. He smelled of liquor and sweat.

One of the other men, Daren, answered him with a cackle.

"Aye, Swarn, you can't have picked a more fun target," he grinned at Virika, "Come now sweetheart, we just want to have some fun."

"Stay away from me," Virika's voice was steady and her hands itched to reach the daggers. But she would not hurt them unless unavoidable. Peace was what she had been taught.

The raucous laughter of the men bounced off the walls of Virika's temporary cell.

Swarn's eyes narrowed and he swayed a little—the effects of a day of drinking.

"Daren," he said.

Virika didn't react as the man named Daren snatched her arms and yanked them behind her back. She would try to get out of this mess without killing anyone. The force of Daren caused the cloth on her head to fall off, revealing her face and hair.

A cascade of copper curls tumbled out and framed her face. Her eyes flashed violently beneath a fringe of long eyelashes.

The men sucked in their breath at the sight of her face in the twilight. For not being an elf, Virika was exceptionally pretty.

"Well, well, well. Ain't you a pretty 'un," Swarn slurred and approached her so that he was very close to her. Virika attempted to make herself taller than she really was—the elves had always towered over her short slim stature.

"Stay away," she threatened.

"I do'n think so," Swarn chuckled and began to unbuckle his belt. Realizing what he was going to do made Virika forget about not hurting the men.

She swung her right leg back and kicked the man behind her in his sensitive spot. He yelped and let go of her.

Quicker than the men, Virika retrieved the daggers from her sleeves and after a swift kick to the gut, laid a cut across Swarn's face.

Daren and the last man watched as their companion fell to the ground—he had passed out. With bellows of rage the both charged towards Virika.

She waited until the last possible second and leapt into the air, spring boarding off Daren's shoulder. As she fell behind him she hooked an arm around his neck and tossing a dagger at the last man who had been brandishing a sword, pressed the sensitive spot on Daren's neck. He fell to the ground with a thud.

Panting, Virika stood surveying the damage. Two men were merely unconscious; she didn't envy the headache's they would have when they awoke.

The last man—the one with the sword—lay on the ground a single dagger protruding from his chest. Virika winced and stepped over to the body, pulling the dagger from his chest.

She wiped the blood off of the dagger on the man's shirt and placed her weapons back in her sleeves. Checking that there was no blood on her dress, she hurried from the alley.

Hiding silently in the shadows a figure watched the tiny girl slip from the alley. The shadow frowned. Three grown men had entered that alley, searching for the girl. However, none had exited. Surely, the girl?

Stepping from the shadows Murtagh sauntered into the alley. Three bodies lay on the ground. Using his magic, he sensed that only one was dead. Murtagh's lips turned up into a smirk. So the girl had beat them?

He strolled from the alley and walked in the direction he had seen the girl walk. Thinking back he remembered that she had been quite lovely. Definitely someone worth following.

Virika's neck prickled. Someone was following her again. She ducked into a tavern—better to be where there were people.

Inside the tavern the fire roared and people mulled over there days with tankards of mead. It was loud and crowded, filled with the stink of unwashed bodies. In a corner a sat an impromptu band. One man played a fiddle while the other beat in time on a drum. It was a very inviting atmosphere, especially if Virika wanted to blend in. She sat down near the men who were playing the music.

Her uneven eyes were alert, but outwardly she appeared relaxed. Virika swayed with the music and even hummed a little under her breath. She smiled as couples stood from the tables to dance a jig in time with the music. They looked happy and carefree when they danced.

She was so consumed watching the joy in the dancers that she almost missed another new comer step through the door to the tavern.

The man was very tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair that fell across his dark eyes. He was exceptionally handsome. The man looked slightly out of place in his black leggings and tunic—a sword hung on his hip. Virika guessed he was probably a soldier off duty.

She turned her attention back to the dancers. The musicians had switched to a slower tune, one that piqued Virika's memory. Her brow grew furrowed as she listened to the melody—she'd heard this before! Humming softly along with melody, Virika searched her memory for the source.

Footsteps coming towards her pulled Virika from her reverie. Her head snapped up to see the young man who had just walked in approaching her. Virika was fine with talking with the older men but this handsome young man concerned her. He was too smooth with his stride and she could feel the soft hum of power radiating from him.

Virika stood swiftly from her spot among the musicians. The young man stopped a few feet from her and sat among one of the tables. Virika moved through the crowd in the tavern towards the door feeling unnerved by the man's presence. He made her uneasy.

She made it to the door and turned to give one last look. The man was looking away from her.

Although Virika kept to the shadows, it was hard for a girl like her not to stand out. Murtagh watched her surreptitiously from his perch high above her on one of the many houses.

She moved with an uncanny grace that made him instantly suspicious. The fact that a young woman such as herself could overpower three men also made him nervous. Who was she? He intended to find out.

Virika could sense him following her but she resisted the urge to look behind her. She made her way faster along the darkened streets until she came to where a festival was taking place.

She would lose him in the crowd she decided. Stepping amongst the revelers Virika searched for a good hiding place.

Dancers twirled around a large bonfire in the middle of a group of kiosks. The band played on raised platform and Virika just had to stop to watch. A man in green garb approached her where she swayed side to side to the happy music.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked her smiling brightly.

Virika stared at him for a moment before answering with a smile of her own. "Certainly," she said. She would lose the man who followed her amid the dancers.

She enjoyed dancing with the man in green and was lost amid the other dancers the swirling of the colors and the music making her lose herself.

It wasn't until he had an arm around her waist during a partner change that Virika realized the man who was following her had found her.

Virika tried to pull away from him. She twisted in his grasp but even with her superhuman strength she couldn't get away from him. His lips turned up into a smirk as he pressed her against him.

She tried pulling away—tried fighting him—but it was useless. The man steered Virika to a dark corner away from the lighted sounds of the festival. There were no people wandering back here around the abandon carts.

Cold stone pressed against Virika's back as the man pushed her against the wall and then swiftly yanked her hands up over her head.

"Let go of me!" Virika said sternly to the man.

His smile grew wider. "I don't think I'll do that. Not until you explain a few things."

"Why should I tell you anything?" her voice was harsh and demanding.

"Because I'm asking you nicely."

Disdain colored Virika's tone. "This is _nicely_?" She looked at him pointedly, "I'd hate to see what not nice would look like. . ."

"You might get to see that."

She snorted at that and his smirk twisted.

"Now then, who are you?" he asked his eyes searching hers.

Virika met them with evenness as she replied, "Virika. And who are you?"

His eyes lit with amusement at her tone. Here was a girl who wasn't afraid or didn't swoon at the sight of him. Virika. She was something of a challenge. And Murtagh liked challenges.

"I'm the one asking the questions," he said roughly pressing his body against her. Virika's breath sped up at his touch. "What are you doing here?"

Her answer was instantaneous. "Traveling."

"For whom?"

"Myself."

He looked at her face and noticed how her lip trembled slightly. She was lying. "Lies," Murtagh said as he shoved her hard against the wall taking pleasure in the fact that she grimaced but quickly hid it.

"I'm telling the truth!" she said it with the perfect amount of outrage.

"Tell. Me. The. Truth," Murtagh enunciated each word and punctuated them with a slight shove.

Virika struggled to hide the fear and pain that she knew would soon show on her face. She mustn't let him find out her mission. He could hurt her all he wanted but Virika would sooner die than give up who she really was.

"I am telling the truth you idiot!" she yelled in his face her eyes narrowing at him as she tried in vain to push him away.

Murtagh smiled widely at her and Virika shivered. Suddenly, he released her and stepped away but before Virika could move she felt the humming of power and the scrape of ropes on her arms.

The rough ropes moved of their own accord and secured Virika by her wrists which hung in the air and her ankles. Frantically Virika tried to escape and reach her weapons, to no avail.

Murtagh watched with vindictive pleasure as the girl in front of him writhed trying to escape. It would be no use.

"LET ME GO!" her shriek bounced off empty carts.

Sauntering up to where she stood struggling, Murtagh snatched her face in his hands and forced her to look into his black eyes. "No."

Murtagh's laugh echoed in the silence after Virika let out a single blood curdling scream. She thrashed violently against her bonds until Murtagh pressed his body once again up against hers. The ropes were enchanted—she couldn't escape them.

Panting and out of breath she glared at him through long lashes. Murtagh smiled at her again and gently let his hands trail up her thighs. Virika gasped from the touch and tried to move away but Murtagh wouldn't let her.

Slowly, he moved his hands up her legs until he found what he was searching for. Reaching in the barely noticeable rips in her leggings he retrieved the daggers hidden. Then he reached his hands up her torso, lingering for only a moment on her breasts, pleased with the blush it brought.

He fingered the cord around her throat and pulled it out of her dress revealing another dagger hung on it. Last were her arms and he took the daggers hiding in her sleeves too. Upon finding all the weaponry she carried he placed them in a small bag that hung at his waist.

Virika snarled soundlessly at him and attempted to kick him in the shin but Murtagh shoved her back against the stone wall her head smacking against it with a resounding crack. Virika's head lolled forward—her eyes shut—a line of blood trickling from her head. He had knocked her unconscious.

Murtagh laughed out loud at her and then frowned as her hair shifted forward revealing her ears. They came to a slight point and Murtagh hissed under his breath. An elf? But, no, she wasn't tall enough or graceful enough or powerful enough. She was no elf. Then who _was _she?

Peering at her he noticed a small black tattoo behind her right ear. It was a half circle with an arrow piercing it. A strange tattoo.

Murtagh placed a finger over it and gently stroked the black ink letting out an agonized hiss as the marking scorched him.

_Interesting_, he thought to himself. _This girl is definitely worth taking a look at._

With these thought he released Virika from his bonds, gathered her in his arms and started towards the palace.

Virika woke with a splitting headache in a cold, damp place that she could only assume was a dungeon. She groaned loudly as she tried to sit up and found that the chains around her wrists didn't allow for much movement. She started when she heard shuffling coming from a dark corner of the stone cell.

"Who's there?" she tried to demand but the pain from the wound on her head made it come out as nearly a whisper.

A single shaft of light illuminated her face causing Virika to blink rapidly in the draining gloom.

The man from the night before stood over her and stared down at her an evil smirk on his face. In the light she could tell the he was an aristocrat judging from his leather and silk outfit. Even if it was black, no on but one of the aristocracy could afford that. Virika was also forced to admit that the man—whoever he might be—was exceptionally handsome, even if she was his captive.

"What do you want?" she managed a little venom in her tone this time.

The man squatted next to her so that there faces were level. He reached behind her and she felt the cold metal of the manacles slip from her wrists. He was freeing her?

Virika was unceremoniously yanked to her feet. Weak, she stumbled and was caught by the man. He looked down at her and rolled his eyes before swinging her up into his arms.

Virika tried to protest but the man ignored her and walked out of the dungeon. She was carried down many passages through corridors never passing another soul. Finally, the man came to a stop in front of a large oak door. Opening the door, he stepped into a small bare room filled with only a large wooden tub filled with steaming water.

Setting Virika down on a chair in a corner the man stood back to look at her. She stared back at him defiantly. The man walked up to Virika and before she could react he picked her back up and dropped her straight into the steaming tub.

Screeching at him through the water Virika let out a string of profanities that caused the man to chuckle.

"Wash yourself off completely. Clothes and a towel are sitting on the chair. I'll be outside when you're finished. Make it quick," with those instructions the man exited the room.

Virika sat in the tub in her clothes for about half a second debating whether or not to follow the man's instructions. Shrugging, Virika stripped off her clothing and delved under the water delighting in the feel of hot water. She let out a little cry of joy when she found soap in the tub with her and began to wash herself, singing a snippet of a tune.

She didn't try to push her unnatural luck and hurried to finish. She stepped out of the tub and crossed to the wooden chair where she wrapped the towel around her body before inspecting the clothes that were laid out for her.

Carefully, she fingered the brilliant blue fabric and gasped from the feel of it. It was silk. The embroidery was gold and made radiant sunbursts around the neckline and the sleeves. Slipping the dress over her head she reveled in the feel of the softness of the dress and realized she had never worn anything so fine, not even in Ellsberg.

Virika finished by brushing her hair through with her fingers making sure that her copper curls covered her ears before exiting the room.

The man was leaning up against the hallway scowling at the door when she walked through to stand awkwardly in the doorway. He looked up and glared at her before turning and swiftly walking away.

Virika followed him keeping her head down—again trying to hide her slightly pointed ears.

"Who—who are you?" she questioned softly after a few minutes of silence.

The man ignored her and she continued walking behind him, not saying anything further.

The reached a large gold door with carvings of riders and dragons. It was inlaid with rubies and sapphires very ornate. Two servants dressed in black mutely opened the door and Virika stepped into a great hall.

To say the hall was a great hall would be a vast understatement. The hall was lined with columns of jade with carvings of dragons breathing fire crawling up them. The floor was made of marble in swirling patterns and the ceiling was so high that looking up Virika couldn't make out the ceiling. At the end of the long hall was a raised dais and upon that was a throne.

The throne itself was vast and unornamented. It seemed to be made of steel or some other metal. But it wasn't all this splendor that caused Virika to quake with fear.

No, it was as she approached the dais the man in front of her knelt to one knee that she realized who was seated on the throne.

Galbatorix. The supposed King of Alageasia. Ruler of Shruikan and evil.

Her uneven eyes widened as Galbatorix stood to his feet to stare at the girl who stood in front of him fear reflecting in her eyes.

Galbatorix was not an old decrepit man whose evil deeds had rendered him with beady eyes and a permanent grimace.

His mouth opened in a smile and a velvet voice poured out of it.

"Not what you expected am I?" The King said.

Virika tried not to drop to a curtsy. She would not bow to this King. No matter how handsome. And Galbatorix was indeed handsome. He looked as though he were in his early forties with distinguished salt and pepper hair that was more salt. A trim goatee framed a chiseled face and deep black eyes twinkled at her. The King was built and his black leggings and tunic showed off a muscled body. For someone so inherently evil, he was sinful to look at.

Her chin stuck out defiantly as she answered him. "No. I expected to see a King crippled by all the sins he committed."

Galbatorix's smile widened. "Ah. A woman with wit."

He strolled lazily towards her, his height dwarfing her. The man stood up from the floor and Galbatorix turned to him.

"Murtagh," he drawled, "where did you find such an interesting specimen?"

Virika jumped when she heard the name. Murtagh the son of Morzan.

Murtagh strutted forward so that his arm brushed Virika's. She stiffened involuntarily from his close proximity. Galbatorix and Murtagh shared a look that Virika didn't quite understand.

"I found her in town. Spying on us for the elves I believe," he said sliding his eyes to look at Virika. Her face paled.

"Why do you think she's one of the elves?"

Murtagh pulled back Virika's curls exposing her pointed ears. She clenched her fists in an effort to not attack him.

Galbatorix looked perplexedly at Virika.

"She's not an elf though . . . but I sense there power in her," he turned away from them to sit in his throne. "What's your name girl?" Galbatorix's voice had taken on a honey sweet tone.

Virika's eyes stared into Galbatorix's. "Virika."

"What are you doing in my city Virika?"

"Traveling."

Murtagh snorted and Galbatorix's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me."

Virika cringed from the change in the King's voice. His voice became harsh and those black eyes blazed with madness.

"I—I'm traveling," her voice quivered.

"I know when you're lying. As does Murtagh," he was dangerously calm now.

Virika stepped forward her eyes alight with fire the humming of her power echoing throughout the room. She answered the King in a low voice.

"You can torture me. You can even kill me. But believe me when I say, I will _never _tell you anything."

Suddenly, Virika was struck across the face by an invisible force that sent her sprawling to the ground. A trickled of blood dribbled from her mouth and she cupped her face.

"Fine," the King said ominously. "I won't kill you. I won't even torture you. But I certainly can't have you out on my streets. From now on," he waved his hand and a gold band with bells attached itself to Virika's ankle, "you'll be a slave."

His mouth turned up into a vindictive smile as he looked upon Virika's face which still held a hint of defiance at his proclamation.

"And you're master will be," he waved his hand and Virika was dragged by an unseen force across the floor before she was prostrate in front of Murtagh.

"Murtagh."


	2. Chapter 2

Murtagh looked disgusted at the very though to having Virika as a slave. His lips pulled back from his teeth.

"Why would I want _her_ as a slave? I have plenty already," he said acidly.

Galbatorix glared at him and turned his attention back to Virika. He looked down at the girl who was struggling against his magic that kept her pinned to the floor.

"You," he snapped at her, "Can you sing or dance?"

Virika attempted to turn her head to face him—all she could manage was to stare at the cold marble floor. She considered ignoring his request, saying that no, she couldn't. But then he might assign her a job much, much worse.

"Yes," she murmured.

Murtagh looked at Galbatorix. The King stared down at Virika avoiding Murtagh's look of anger. The girl was pretty and she could sing and dance. Perhaps a nice little slave to pleasure Murtagh. Galbatorix's face lit up in a sinister grin. Yes, that would be the right punishment for the insolent girl.

He turned his attention back to Murtagh. "She'll be your pleasure slave."

A gasp came from Virika from this announcement. A pleasure slave? That didn't sound very promising. In fact, it sounded horribly bad.

Murtagh stared down at Virika a calculating look on his face. He took in her form. She wasn't bad looking, that much was certain. She was prettier than most of his other slaves. If she could entertain him with her songs and dancing—and possibly other things—he wasn't sure he could object any longer.

Looking back at the King, Murtagh finally answered him. "I do need a little entertainment . . ." he trailed off suggestively and smirked when Virika's face became even paler.

Virika's look was one of horror, but inwardly she was planning. Her head was currently going through all kinds of escape possibilities. Her eyes flickered from one end of the hall taking in the scenery. She would not become this man's . . . _plaything_.

Galbatorix was still watching Virika and his eyes narrowed when he caught her taking in all the exits. She was smart, but not smart enough. He waved his hand and Virika was wrenched upright onto her feet.

She gasped from the force of his magic. He looked straight into her eyes and smiled when he saw blatant fear in them.

"You won't escape," he said.

Virika's voice trembled. "We'll see about that."

The resounding smack echoed in the hall and Virika's hand cupped her cheek where Murtagh had hit her.

"You're a slave now. You _will not_ speak unless either of us requests an answer," Galbatorix said icily, "Do you understand?"

Virika nodded her eyes filled with unshed tears at the pain on her face. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Galbatorix gave the girl one last icy look and turned to mount the dais and retake his seat in his throne. He gave Murtagh a dismissing wave.

Murtagh glared at Virika making it clear that she was to follow him and then turned to make his was down the long hall and out the exit with Virika following him.

They walked down winding passageways and corridors, up and down stairs for many minutes. Virika got the distinct impression that Murtagh was taking her in circle's to confuse her so that finding her way out of the castle would be impossible. She groaned inwardly. Murtagh finally led her to a single door in a cold, stone hallway. Pushing open the door he grabbed Virika by her dress and threw her through the doorway. Virika fought back the urge to strike him.

The room was tiny and very simple. The walls were the same unforgiving gray stone and a high window about 30 feet above her was just a slit in the wall—there was no way she could escape through it. There was a sleeping pallet against one wall and a chest against the other. That was it.

On top of the chest was a single candle. At least they would be giving her light. She stood in the room awkwardly before looking back at Murtagh who leaned against the doorway.

Virika visibly stiffened when Murtagh's eyes raked over her body. He smirked at her reaction.

"This is your room. You are not to exit it unless I summon you. In that chest," he pointed, "are some clothes that you will wear when I call on you to entertain me. You will call me Master at all times. You will not speak to me unless I speak to you. You will _always_ obey me. Someone will help you dress, bring you your meals and take you to the bathhouse." With those parting words he turned and left.

The door shut with the ominous sound of a door locking and Virika was left in the cold and dreary room. Her eyes searched the room again.

There was nothing here that could be used as a weapon. The chest was pieced together with only wood—no metal. The stone walls couldn't be chipped away with her hands and the sleeping pallet held only straw.

Virika let out a scream of frustration and pounded her fists against a frigid wall. Even with her superhuman strength Virika didn't even dent the stone.

Outside in the hallway Murtagh's lips turned up into a smile as he heard Virika's screech. She would be an interesting slave.

Virika sat on the pallet staring about the room and then down at her hands which were bruised from pounding against the walls or her dark room. It was dark now because the little shaft of sunlight that filtered through her window was gone.

It was blue and gray light that was in the room. Virika didn't mind. Living with the elves for her entire life had given her the ability to see in the dark like a cat. It wasn't as strong as other's but in this dull light the details of her little cell were clearly visible.

Shifting so that she leaned against the pallet she pulled a blanket that she had found in the chest up around her body. Virika shut her eyes and breathing slowly and deeply helped her relax.

_Golden shafts of sunlight filtered through the green canopy as Virika giggled. She was hidden behind a mammoth of a tree—hiding._

_Virika was eight years old. She giggled again as she thought of how she had found the perfect hiding place. Her ears were just beginning to come to a point and her head swiveled at the sound of a soft footstep._

_She held perfectly still, even holding her breath for fear of being found. After a few moments she didn't hear anything and let all her air out in a resounding whoosh._

_A hand clapped down on her shoulder causing Virika to yelp._

_The sound of a trickling brook reached her ears and she turned to see her best friend laughing at her. Virika smiled widely._

_"Tanlin! Don't scare me like that!"_

_The elf named Tanlin, towered over the little human. His long raven locks brushed her shoulders as he leaned down to face her. The little human girl was entertaining. _

_"If you had hidden better, Rika, then I wouldn't have found you." He said in a stern voice but his deep blue eyes twinkled._

_The child laughed and bounded away from him her curls whipping around her face in the sudden wind. Virika turned to face Tanlin._

_"You would have found me! You're the best at hide and seek! No one can out seek you!"_

_The man leaned against the tree that Virika had been hiding behind. His arms were folded across his chest and his gaze was calculating._

_"That's true," he smiled, "but how would you like to learn to be the best?"_

_The child's uneven eyes lit up. He couldn't get over those eyes. Something about them was mysterious—he wanted to figure them out. Tanlin looked over at the only human he had ever met, this child. She was bright and happy. And yet—yet there was something about her . . ._

_"Teach me! Teach me!" the little girl shrieked dancing around clapping her hands together._

_Tanlin laughed at the child's antics. He moved from his post towards her. Kneeling before her so that his face was level he started to explain to the child. _

_"Pay attention, Rika, this is important to winning . . ."_

The sound of the lock being pulled lulled Virika from her sleep. She shook her head to rid herself of the strange memory. Why it would come to her at a time like this was beyond her.

There were more pressing matters at hand however. Like who was coming into her room.

The door flew open and a figure stood in the doorway. Virika blinked rapidly trying to decipher who the person could be. It was male that was for certain.

Stepping into the room the person came into focus. He was dressed richly like a noble man would be. His hair was a light brown and he smirked showing a dimple in his right cheek.

Virika glared at this intruder.

"So," the man said loudly, "this is your new slave, huh?" He reached out and yanked Virika up to her feet. She hissed at the man and pulled herself out of his grip. This caused the man to laugh.

"Nice. She's got spirit. And a pretty face, nice body too . . ." The man trailed as his gaze ran up and down Virika's figure. She glared at the man affronted by his brazen talk of her.

Someone else leaned against the doorway now.

"Yes well, it wouldn't do to have an _ugly_ slave, now would it?" Murtagh drawled from the door.

The man turned around to look at him. "I agree," he turned his attention back to Virika who stood with her eyes narrowed and fists clenched in fury. "Think I can have a go at her once your finished?" He asked cocking his head.

The man didn't even have time to dodge before Virika's fist smashed into his face. The man stumbled backwards his hands clutching the side of his face Virika had hit.

"Don't you _dare_ talk about me like that!" She screeched her eyes blazing in anger.

Murtagh gave a lazy wave of his hand and muttered something under his breath. Virika let out a cry of pain as the anklet started to burn her flesh. She dropped to her knees because the pain was so sharp.

"Sorry about that, Rhys," Murtagh said with a sneer, "but you are correct about that spirit."

Rhys stood up straight and looked down at where Virika was on the floor. Her hands frantically ripping at the gold band.

"She's got good aim. I didn't even see her move before she hit me," his voice was one of admiration. "I like a fighter." He smiled widely.

Virika growled from her position on the floor. Her eyes were flooded with tears because of the burning pain but she refused to let them flow. Murtagh mumbled another word and the pain ceased. Virika slumped in exhaustion.

"Don't hit my guests," Murtagh said as Rhys left the room. "Or next time I may just give you over to him."

The door shut with a slam leaving Virika in the darkness again.

.......................................................................................

_Whew. I finished chapter 2! Reviews are welcome. In fact, I kinda sorta love them. Tell me what you think about my story okay?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Well, this is a tiiiiny bit longer than the last chappy. I hope it keeps you happy! Thanks for all your reviews, they make me warm and fuzzy inside. :)_

....................................................................................

The next weeks dragged on to Virika. She was often summoned before Murtagh and occasionally before Murtagh and Rhys to sing or dance for them. The rest of her time was spent wandering the castle.

After finally realizing that locking Virika up in her room for the entire day would eventually lead to her becoming pale and weak, Murtagh had given Virika reign of the castle. However, this freedom didn't come without its share of problems. Murtagh had added another spell to Virika's anklet that informed him of her whereabouts and that when he wished to see her would burn her ankle until she came within sight of him.

Still, this freedom was more than Virika could have hoped for. As a result she spent many days in a strange room that she had found.

The castle itself was made of cold, unforgiving stone. There was a cast of bleak, perpetual, gray inside the castle. One day Virika had been searching for a window of some sort to see the sun and sky when she happened upon a door of shimmering glass.

Stopping, Virika placed her hands on the wavy glass—the glow of light filtering through and the colors behind it beckoning to her. With a swift look around she pushed on the door and entered the room.

In a fortress full of stone and emptiness what lay inside the room came as much as a surprise as Galbatorix himself had. The room was made entirely of the same wavy glass that the door had been made of—the ceiling so high that even Virika's enhanced eyes had to squint to make it out. Sunlight filtered through the glass and even though she couldn't actually see the sky, just the sun casting a golden glow through the glass was enough for her.

This wasn't the most amazing aspect of the room. The room was a miniature forest inside the castle. Large trees—oak, pine, beech and others—stood in clumps along with emerald grass that covered the ground. Moss grew on boulders and berries grew on bushes. Walking further into the little forest, Virika discovered tiny purple flowers and pond so still that it looked like green glass.

If not for the silence that surrounded her she could've been in an actual forest. The temperature, the sun, the surroundings all had an eerie peacefulness to them. Virika touched what seemed like a patch of little pink flowers and quickly pulled her hand back when they flew into a flock of butterflies, swirling and twirling up and around her.

Never had she believed that a place of such beauty—albeit artificial beauty—could exist in such an empty and loveless place as King Galbatorix's fortress. Virika laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. That the King would keep such a lovely place in his castle.

After discovering what Virika from then on called her Enchanted Forest, she spent every spare moment in that room. Hiding from the reality of her situation and pretending that she was once again home, home in Ellesmera.

Spending time in her Enchanted Forest allowed Virika the chance to relax—to get away from everything in her life. To be alone and pretend for once that she wasn't in this horrible situation. This situation that she couldn't do anything about.

Murtagh stopped suddenly and did a double take as he spied another person in the room with him. He had just been passing through when a glint of copper had caught his eye.

There she was. Virika was lying in the grass on her back, her hands spread out palm up as though they were plants taking in the sunlight. Her head was tipped back and her red-gold hair spread out like a fan around her elfin face. Her red dress stood out in stark contrast to the cooler colors of blue and green that surrounded her creating an enticing picture. Her eyes were shut and her breathing shallow.

Murtagh grinned to himself. She was quite pretty, this slave of his. And being his slave he could do what he wanted with her.

Slowly, Murtagh crept over to her then muttered his spell and Virika yelped awake at the burning sensation on her ankle. She sat up fast her curls spilling over her shoulders and into her face as she reached for her ankle swearing hotly under her breath.

Murtagh chuckled at his post where he leaned against the tree. Virika looked up swiftly and glared at him, the moment her eyes found his form the pain in her leg stopped. For a moment another image was superimposed upon his. The same leaning stance with arms crossed over his chest—only this person was much fairer. Virika blinked and the image was gone. Murtagh's sneer grew more pronounced.

"What was that for? You could've just woken me," Virika said irritably getting to her feet and mirroring Murtagh's pose.

Murtagh shrugged. "You're my slave; I can do what I want with you."

Virika opened her mouth to protest but Murtagh cut her off. "I want you to serve my guests and I dinner in my chambers tonight. I will leave what you are to wear in your room. You will serve our dinner and sit so that we might look at you," he held up a finger at her and his expression darkened, "you're not to say a word unless you're spoken to. Understand?"

Virika was silent for a moment debating on whether or not she should just agree with him. As if he guessed what was on her mind Murtagh murmured the spell that caused her ankle to burn for just a moment before releasing her from its power.

"I understand," she glared.

"I understand, _Master_," Murtagh corrected thoroughly amused.

Clenching her fists Virika replied, "I understand Master."

With that Murtagh stalked out of the forest leaving Virika to her thoughts.

Virika let out a horrified squeak when she put the dress that had been left out for her on. The skirt was made of panels of fabric in varying shades of blue with gold embroidery and slung low on her hips. When she walked her long, pale legs were exposed up to her thigh.

The top of her outfit consisted of a corset style top that left a sliver of her midriff visible. The corset had been laced tightly with the help of a middle aged woman who never seemed to smile. Because of how tight the lacing was, Virika's breasts were pushed up and forward creating quite a bit more cleavage than she was used to wearing. The soft sleeves of the blue top fell off her shoulders so that her neck and upper body was bared.

The middle aged woman who had helped Virika lace up her top arranged her copper curls on top of her head held down with two gold bands.

Looking at herself in the still water in her Enchanted Forest, Virika blushed a bright crimson. She looked like a—a—a _harlot_. Virika shook her head back and forth trying to rid herself of the unflattering term. But there was no denying that she would most definitely not pass for anything other than a prostitute. She shuddered as she felt the pain on her ankle start up again—a sign that she was wanted.

The rooms that belonged to Murtagh were certainly masculine. Animal skins covered the floors and chairs made of bone and leather were the seating arrangements. This evening however, Murtagh had created a lush corner in one of his rooms.

Exotic fabric pillows covered the floor around a large, low table. Murtagh, Rhys and one other man lounged in front of the table. The massive, dark wood table had on it many different liquors and edible items. The men were laughing and drinking when Virika arrived.

As was expected of her, Virika waited in the doorway her head to the floor until Murtagh acknowledged her presence. Once he did she stepped into the room and stood uncertainly in front of the men.

All three of their eyes raked her body hungrily and in a way that made her nervous. She made a snort of impatience after minutes had passed and she had been asked to do nothing.

"She _does_ have an attitude, doesn't she?" A lordly drawl came from the man that Virika hadn't recognized. The man was lean and leonine in every sense of the word. His mane of gold hair flowed to his shoulders and his brown eyes were sharp with every movement Virika made. He was coiled as though ready to strike.

Rhys chuckled. "Yes. And that's what makes her all the better! I like 'em with a bit of spirit, eh Ari?" He nudged the man—Ari—with his elbow.

Taking a swig of the alcohol Murtagh smirked at Virika. "Is something the matter?" he asked mockingly.

Virika's fists clenched and she inhaled deeply to try to calm herself knowing that if she got angry it would only cause her pain. "No . . . _Master_."

This caused all three men to laugh. Rhys spoke up again. "Come, come, Vir—what was it again? Sit on my lap, pretty little thing."

"I will not sit on your lap you pompous fool who can't even have the decency to call me by my name! I would rather eat—"

Virika's angry statement was cut off as Murtagh said a sharp word of power that caused Virika to go tumbling into his lap. She let out a shriek and tried to get up but Murtagh's arms went around her waist holding her in a cage there.

"Get off me you—!"

Murtagh squeezed her wrist hard enough to cut her off with a gasp of pain. He then proceeded to pass Virika over to Rhys' lap where he apologized with a drunken slur about the situation.

"You needn't apologize to her, she's only a slave," Murtagh drawled sneering at her.

Ari laughed at Virika's enraged expression and poured a glass of a red liquid and handed it to Virika. "Here, drink this," he said with a deep, rumbling voice.

Virika eyed the drink suspiciously which caused Rhys to laugh at her. His arm rested languidly around her waist, his hand upon Virika's thigh which had become exposed thanks to her costume.

"Come on—Rika, drink it!" he said stroking her skin and finally coming up with some semblance of her name. Virika shuddered from his touch and his familiar use of her name.

"Don't call me that!" she said harshly.

Murtagh took another sip. "Rika?"

Virika glared at him. "Yes, that you idiot."

Rhys laughed. "Rika . . . you're going to make him angry again . . ."

"I don't care if I do."

All three men laughed at that and Murtagh's eyes darkened as he once again murmured words in the ancient language. Immediately Virika felt her arm moving of its own accord and found herself drinking the liquid that Ari had given her. She coughed as the liquid scaled and burned her throat causing the men to dissolve into chuckles. A warmth spread through Virika's body.

She was vaguely aware that she was getting relaxed. Rhys' other hand brushed her collarbone and though she didn't like the attention Virika leaned back into his chest. She wasn't even aware when she took another gulp on the liquor. The conversation and banter started up around her.

Minutes—hours even later, who knew? Virika was asked to perform a dance. She laughed and stumbled to her feet.

"Only if one of you will dance with me!" She announced spreading her arms wide in a player's dramatic gesture.

The men stared at her before looking at each other.

"I guess I can't dance then . . ." she said mockingly and headed towards the door forgetting that she was a slave and had not been dismissed.

Suddenly, in front of Virika was Murtagh his expression dark and dangerous as his attire.

"Oh, I'll dance with you," he said with a suggestive smirk before leaning in to whisper the rest to Virika, "although it won't be with anyone present and believe me—it will be a most enjoyable . . . _dance_."

Virika tried to push him away horrified by his statement but the alcohol was too strong and instead he pulled Virika to his body, his large hands closing around her small wrists.

Virika struggled and tried to pull away; laughter coming from Ari and Rhys becoming louder and more hysterical with each of her frantic attempts at escape. The liquor made Virika's mind sluggish and therefore her movements were slow and weak.

Murtagh glanced at his friends and winked at them knowingly before yanking Virika's arms behind her and holding them captive with one hand. With his other hand he traced the tops of Virika's breasts that were pushed up by the corset. Her breath caught in her throat at his searing touch and she pulled even more violently at him.

"Don't touch me!" she spat venomously.

Murtagh just smirked and place his hand on the exposed skin slightly above her hip. The raucous laughter of Rhys and Ari raised an octave at the red blush that flushed her cheeks. Slowly, Murtagh leaned in again to Virika's ear.

"Do you like that?" he asked and then licked her ear.

The last thing Virika remembered before the full force of the alcohol and shock of Murtagh's touch caught up with her was his laughing, malicious face.

..............................................

_There you go. Chapter 3. I hope you enjoyed it! If so feel free to leave me a review. I love hearing what you think, whether it's good or bad. :)_

_Love you guys! Oh and Happy Valentine's Day (or in my case Happy Singles Awareness Day!)!!!!!_


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter is really really short. Sorry, but I've tonnsss of school work to do! -sigh- C'est la vie. However, there is a little M/V action in this, so I dearly hope that it will make up for the length. As always, I appreciate your reviews. :)_

.........................................................................................

Virika's uneven eyes fluttered open and she was disoriented for a moment. Finally the room came into focus. Morning light was filtering in through windows casting a golden glow around a rather masculine room.

It was then that she became aware that a tan and muscular arm was wrapped around her waist possessively and that there was a _very_ masculine man behind her. Virika tried to pull away but the arm tightened around her bare mid-drift and someone nuzzled her neck.

Eyes widening in shock Virika tried to pull away but this time there was a low chuckle and a dark leg came up and over her, locking her in his grip. Her eyes widened further as she realized that the man she was with was wearing no clothing.

Virika emitted a short squeak and tried desperately to pull away to no avail. Suddenly, the arm around her waist pulled and she was flipped over so that she was face to face with her assailant.

Murtagh with his eyes glinting stared at Virika's face as she blushed aware of the compromising position she was in. Her eyes of there own accord raked Murtagh's body. But she couldn't really help it.

Her eyes traveled down his bronzed chest that was so perfectly sculpted with musculature that she thought he might have been a statue created by a great master. His bedroom eyes watched her lazily as her gaze traveled down his chest and abs only to flick back up quickly with a blush at what was hiding beneath a thin sheet.

"Like what you see?" he asked cockily.

Still blushing bright red, Virika tried to pull away from him but he kept her trapped. When she didn't answer his eyes glittered with anger.

"I asked you a question," he said in a deceptively calm tone.

Virika chewed her lip before answering defiantly, "No. No, I don't."

Murtagh frowned. Then his lips turned up into a smirk and his eyes swept over Virika's form. She was very close to him. Seeing the expression on his face Virika's face paled and she placed her hands on his chest to try to push herself away from him.

His smirk grew more pronounced as he looked down pointedly at her hands. Her tiny hands barely covering the planes of his abdomen. Virika's cheeks flooded with heat but before she could remove her hands Murtagh snatched one with his free hand.

Tugging at him, Virika tried to pull her hand from his but it was in his iron grasp. Smiling wickedly, Murtagh placed Virika's hand against his chest and slowly moved it downward across his abs, downward to the 'v' of his hip bones and moved it under the sheets that hid the rest of his naked form.

Frantically, Virika tried to pull her hand away. Murtagh stopped just short of that hidden place and looked at her.

"Like what you feel?" his voice was husky.

Every ounce of Virika's being screamed for her to agree with him—knowing that if she did he would likely release her. Unfortunately, the words that spilled from her angry mouth were not the ones he wanted to hear.

"No! Let me go!" she yelled viciously.

Murtagh's eyes darkened and he threw Virika's arms over her head and trapped them in one of his hands. He then rolled her over so that she was on her back and he straddled her. Pressing his full weight down on her body so that she was stuck beneath his larger form he pressed his lips to hers.

Virika wasn't ready for the assault that Murtagh released upon her lips. His mouth plundered her and when she tried to move away his free hand reached up to grab her jaw forcing her to stay still. Virika gasped at this and Murtagh's tongue wormed its way into her mouth.

Virika tried to pull away and buck him off but he held her fast. His teeth scraped her lower lip and despite herself Virika let out a little whimper. She could feel Murtagh's smile at her reaction as he heightened his ministrations—swirling his tongue within her mouth, seeking out all her hidden crevices.

Her body rebelling against what her mind was telling her, Virika's tongue shyly made its way into Murtagh's mouth and she let a small moan as he nipped at her lips. A game of dominance made way in their mouths.

Murtagh released his hold on Virika's jaw to trail his hand down her collar bone and down on her shoulders while his lips never left hers. Only when his hand brushed her breast did Virika react; letting out a gasp and jerking her head away from him.

His hand still on her breast Murtagh looked down at Virika. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, her lips swollen with kissing and her eyes wide with fright at his hand. He laughed and the color faded from her cheeks. Rolling off of her Murtagh left the bed flaunting his nudity.

Virika looked away from him as he crossed the room to the wardrobe. Her wrists would be bruised soon with the force of which he held them and sure enough purple finger marks were already showing up on her fair skin.

Still averting her eyes from where Murtagh dressed himself Virika raised her fingers to her lips feeling the puffiness from the kissing and blushing at the thought of how she had reacted. Disgusted with herself for giving in to his kisses Virika clamped her eyes shut.

"Leave," Murtagh ordered staring at her.

Virika's eyes opened and she stared at him as he wandered towards the exit. He turned and looked at her still sitting in his massive bed.

"Leave, _now_."

Virika leapt from the bed and fled the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Once she was safely in her room Virika threw the door shut and slid down so that her back scraped the rough wood. Huddled on the floor she raised her hand to her lips again—they were still swollen with Murtagh's kisses. She held her hand there for a moment hardly daring to believe what happened.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. How could she have responded to that—that monster? He manipulated and used her for his own selfish means! Virika was furious now and stood up her eyes flashing with irate anger.

She let out a soundless scream of rage and picking up the chest that sat on one side of the wall hurled it with all her might at the stone walls of her room. The chest hit the wall with such force that it shattered into pieces with an echoing crash. Splinters of wood from the chest flew across the room and assaulted Virika with their sharpness. Hardly feeling the pin-pricks of pain Virika let out another howl of anger before sinking back to the floor in tears.

She cried for what she had become. For letting the Queen down. For everything that had happened to her. Virika cried for all her misfortune and sobbing fell asleep.

"_Why are you crying Rika?" Tanlin asked her._

_13 year old Virika was crouched high in a tree her hands in her face trying to muffle her sobs. She stayed silent hoping that Tanlin would go away and leave her alone to her pity._

_There was soft rustling behind Virika._

_"Rika, why are you crying?" Tanlin's voice much closer now. He had scaled the tree and was sitting on a branch to the right of Virika. She sniffed trying to appear as though she hadn't been crying._

"_I—I'm not crying," she said wiping her eyes._

_Tanlin's bright blue eyes bored into her uneven ones. He could tell she was lying and Virika knew this. Realizing Tanlin knew brought fresh tears and Virika's sobs started again. _

_A soft hand on her shoulder calmed her._

_"Rika," he said softly, "what's wrong?"_

_"I-I-I don't b-belong anywhere!" she wailed._

_Tanlin's face furrowed. "Of course you do. You belong wherever you want to belong."_

_"N-no, I mean . . ." she broke off into sobs again, "I mean no one w-will ever l-l-love me! I'm all a-a-alone! I'll n-never get married and h-have children o-or any of that!"_

_"Is that why you're crying?" Tanlin asked her realization dawning on him. He cupped her small face with his large hands forcing her to look at him. "Don't worry Rika; there is someone out there for you. Don't worry. And you are loved. I love you; Geldor and Relsa love you because you're their daughter. Don't let anyone ever tell you differently."_

_Virika wiped her nose with her hand. "Really? You love me?"_

_Tanlin looked into the child's eyes and placed his hands in hers. "Of course."_

_"Always and forever?" she asked in child-like innocence as though nothing bad could ever happen in the world and Tanlin would be there for her. _

_"As long as I'm living," he said smiling at her. He tickled her arm and she giggled. "Now, what started all this?"_

_Virika dropped her eyes and stared at the brown bark of the branch she was sitting on. A light blush of pink spread across her cheeks. "I-I saw . . . someone with someone else . . ."_

_Tanlin's high bell like laughter bounced off the forest. Virika's head snapped up at the sound of his mirth. Rarely did he laugh like that._

_"Is that all?" he asked her his blue eyes twinkling with amusement, "well, I can assure you that some day, you'll be those 'someone's."_

_Virika's blush deepened. "I'm not sure if I want to be like that!" She told him haughtily upset that he was purposely embarrassing her. "I'm never going to do anything like that where anyone can see me!"_

_"I think that'll change one day, when you're caught up in the moment."_

_"Never!" she said offended. Virika scrambled up the tree to reach a higher branch. She was smaller than Tanlin but not as quick so he was soon level with her._

_"Running away, Rika?" he chuckled._

_She turned to look at him, her eyes bright her tears forgotten. "No, I'm just beating you!"_

_Tanlin's smile grew wider. "Oh, a challenge? Well then. We'll need a wager . . . first to the top receives a kiss."_

_Virika watched his face for a moment to see if he was serious. Satisfied that he was she screwed her face up. "A kiss? From you? Why would I want that?"_

_Tanlin leaned forward so that his elfin face was only inches from her human one. "Because, then I will have stolen your first kiss, and you'll never get it back!"_

_Virika's face took on a look of determination. "No man, elfin or not, shall ever take my first kiss from me without permission!"_

_He laughed at her and without another word leapt up climbing through the branches. Virika started after him with fierce determination on her face. Faster and faster she climbed until she burst out the top of the tree._

_She looked around for Tanlin but he was nowhere to be found. Virika let out a triumphant laugh. She had won! Tanlin wouldn't be taking her first kiss! She dropped down back under the cover of the foliage and sat on a branch waiting for Tanlin to come up so that she could scoff in his face about how she had won and he hadn't._

_There was a rustling of leaves above her but when Virika looked there was nothing. She turned her attention back to the area in front of her and there crouched Tanlin. _

_Virika jumped frightened by his silent appearance but didn't lose her grip on the tree. She started to open her mouth to tell him about her victory when he suddenly leaned forward and for one soft second his smooth lips brushed hers. And then he was gone._

Virika woke from her stress induced slumber. Her face was pressed into the cold floor. Scattered around her were splinters from the chest that she had smashed against the stone walls.

There in her view was a sliver of stone about the length of her hand lying on the floor. It had obviously chipped off of the walls when she had thrown the wooden structure against it.

The piece was small, but it was triangular shaped. Virika sat up and picked it up with her hand. The edges of the stone were sharp—with a little more working it could become a weapon. Virika went into overdrive.

Searching her room she finally decided to rip the single sheet that covered her bed. Ripping of a strip of the cloth she bound the stone dagger to her thigh. She took out her long hair and dressed in a different outfit before heading to her favorite place in the castle.

In her Enchanted Forest Virika looked long and hard for another rounder stone to work her little dagger into a more dangerous shape. She finally found it by the glass-like pond. Checking around her Virika started to ply the small stone into a shape.

By late afternoon she had finished. In her hands she held a piece of stone that came to a point and had sharp serrated edges. When she drew her hand over the side of it she drew a thin pin-prick of blood from her palm. Virika smiled to herself.

She wrapped the dagger around her thigh with the bit of cloth from her blanket hoping that she would be able to keep it hidden. She was on her way back to her room when she felt that familiar burning on her ankle.

She changed her course and went to Murtagh's rooms. The door opened for her and she entered the room. Murtagh was standing at his window looking out at the sunset. Virika's hand twitched towards her newly made dagger but she held back. It wouldn't do to kill him now—not before she had found an exit.

"Come here," he said authoritatively not turning to look at her.

Virika snorted at his command but walked forward until she was standing by his side. Murtagh motioned to the scene outside of his window.

"Lovely, is it not?" he murmured.

Virika's eyes looked out on his view—this was the first chance she had at seeing where the castle was located. What she saw made her gasp.

There was nothing but sky outside his window. The setting sun dipped so low that only its dying rays were visible outside of the window. Wisps of clouds floated by in the open air.

Virika couldn't contain the gasp as all her hope of escape flew out that high window. Murtagh pulled Virika into an embrace, wrapping his arms around her body.

"Oh? Did that just ruin your plans of escape?" Murtagh muttered his mouth on her hair. Virika placed her hands on his chest to try to push away from him determined not to cry in front of him.

His arms tightened around her pinning her arms to her sides. One of Murtagh's arms draped lower on Virika his hand reaching for her dress, pulling it up and revealing her creamy thigh. Virika held in a sigh of relief as it wasn't the leg that her weapon was on.

Murtagh's hand skimmed up Virika's thigh leaving tingling trails along it. Virika's breath caught in her throat and her heart beat sped up. A low chuckled rumbled in Murtagh's chest.

Virika moved to try to pull away but Murtagh's superior strength held her against him. Her nails dug into his chest as he moved his lips from her hair to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She involuntarily arched her back pressing her hips into his.

Murtagh kissed down her neck and nipped her collar bone before covering it with his tongue. This time Virika couldn't contain her moan and Murtagh's mouth curved into a smile.

Virika's eyes drifted closed as Murtagh's mouth worked wonders on her neck and mouth while his hand on her thigh moved her back towards a wall. She sucked in a breath as her back hit the stone wall.

Murtagh released the hold on her leg and instead it traveled up her back to tangle in her hair. His lips moved from her neck to capture her lower lip in his teeth. She let out a whimper of lust as he started to suck on her lip.

Virika tried to fight the feelings that were coursing through her but her body rebelled. Thoughts swirled in her head. Hatred and lust mixed together with confusion. Murtagh's tongue entered her mouth and she gasped against him her hands tightening on his chest raking deep nail marks.

Virika's leg that didn't have the dagger came up and wrapped around Murtagh's legs pulling him closer to her. Murtagh was like a dangerous drug—her mind was telling her no, but her body seemed to want more of him.

Suddenly, Murtagh's head snapped up away from Virika. He looked down at her face, at her eyes that were shut and the way she clung to him for support. But he couldn't ignore the summons that rang in his head. The King wanted him.

He bit down on Virika's neck just hard enough to draw a tiny droplet of blood. He licked up the spot before moving away from her.

"I've claimed you as mine," he said with a smirk. "Wait here."

And then he exited the room leaving Virika to slide down the wall and hug her arms to herself wondering what brought out this—this harlot side of herself.

................................................

_Oh snap! It's starting to get steamy, no? Review please! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

"You summoned me?" Murtagh asked bowing before the King. Galbatorix looked down at him from his throne his expression cold.

His eyes flicked over Murtagh's form before he answered.

"Yes," he replied his voice echoing in the empty hall, "I wanted to talk to you about your slave."

Murtagh kept his eyes on the ground knowing that to look into the King's eyes would be a very bad idea. He traced patterns with his eyes in the floor.

"Yes, your Highness?"

Galbatorix slammed his fist down on the edge of his throne causing Murtagh to look up. The King was now standing and walked over to where Murtagh stood. His eyes searched out Murtagh's.

"There is something strange about her," he mused.

Something like recognition flickered behind Murtagh's eyes. "I've noticed that. She has a different aura about her. Like she's suppressing some sort of power."

Galbatorix nodded. "Ah, so you _have _noticed it. You're not the simpleton I took you for." He sneered at Murtagh. "I want you to harness that power and use it."

Murtagh's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not sure what you mean your Highness, I don't know how—"

"SILENCE!" Galbatorix roared. He smacked Murtagh across the face and Murtagh stumbled backwards his hands cupping his face that was bleeding. He murmured the healing words under his breath and his bleeding stopped. While the pain from Galbatorix's hand disappeared the pain of his situation did not.

Galbatorix glared icily at Murtagh who straightened back up to look at his King.

"You will seduce her. Woo her. Learn what her powers are. I want you to make her fall in love with you."

Murtagh would have liked to object but he knew what his King would do if he did.

"Yes, my King," he said resigned to his task. If he didn't do as Galbatorix told him then he would be forced to perform the task by saying the ancient words.

Galbatorix grinned; it was vicious and cold without any hint of an actual smile in it. Murtagh suppressed a shudder.

"You are dismissed," the King said and walked back to his throne leaving Murtagh to exit the hall and find the slave that he was supposed to seduce.

…………………………………

Virika was slumped up against the wall where Murtagh had left her a slur of confusing feelings jumbled in her head. She put her hands in her face and cried.

Her tears came fast and hard spilling over like rain in a drought. The tears splashed on the stone floor making delicate tinkling noises.

_"But, why do you have to go? Why you? Why not someone else?" 16 year old Virika was frantic with worry. She wrung her hands and paced._

_Tanlin was seated on a tree branch just above her head. His face held a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes._

_"Because, someone has to," he said with amusement. _

_Virika stopped pacing and glared at him. Then she swiftly pulled herself up so that she was perched next to Tanlin on the branch. She swung her legs back and forth like a child._

_Tanlin's eyes slid to his friend next to him. Her gown had ripped from her earlier adventures leaving a tantalizing strip of her leg bare as she shifted. Unwittingly, Virika furthered Tanlin's view by lifting her bare leg to rest her foot on the rough bark of the tree. _

_He brought his eyes back up to her uneven eyes and involuntarily reached out to cup her cheek._

_"Don't worry Rika, I won't die," he said in a soothing tone._

_Virika glared. "No, you won't. Because I'm going to be the one to kill you for leaving."_

_He laughed—he only ever laughed at her—his head tipped back and his chuckled wracking his body. He removed his hand from her cheek and instead grasped her hands. He watched as her gruff demeanor fell and tears splashed down her face._

_"I do not want to leave," he whispered his eyes meeting hers, "you must trust me about that. I would never willingly choose to leave _you_."_

_There eyes held for a moment before Virika looked away with a sigh. She didn't pull away from his grasp allowing him to hold her hand._

_In the golden light of the dying sun she looked more beautiful than any elf maiden he'd ever laid eyes on. He reached over to brush a glittering tear off her cheek and delighted in the pink that spread across her face._

_Her eyes were on his as his hand froze inches from her lips._

_"Tanlin," she said softly her voice carrying on the breeze that ruffled her hair. "I—I . . ." She looked down at their hands entwined._

_"Rika, lost for words. I never thought I'd see the day," he chuckled._

_She looked back at his face her eyes searching his with determination before faltering and looking down again. Her sobs cut him._

_Gently he pulled her so that she was flush against his body in his lap. She buried her head in his chest her wet tears soaking his tunic. Tanlin wrapped his arms around Virika's body and she placed her hands on his chest._

_"I love you," she whispered into his skin._

_Tanlin stiffened and Virika pulled back from him—her eyes wide with fright at his reaction. They stared at each other for a moment before Virika spoke again._

_"I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that . . ." she moved to break from his embrace but Tanlin's arms locked with vice-like determination around her body. She searched him looking for an explanation._

_"Rika," he said putting his face very close to hers. "Do you truly love me?"_

_Her face blushed crimson as she looked down at her hands splayed against his chest._

_"Yes, I do," she murmured._

_Suddenly, Tanlin's lips were on Virika's hard and hot. She gasped putting her arms on either side of his broad shoulders pulling herself closer to him. She felt his smile on her lips as he tangled a hand in her hair and tipped her head back to allow him more access to her mouth._

_His tongue touched her lips begging for entrance and Virika obliged reveling in the warmth that pooled in her stomach as his tongue entwined with hers. All too soon she had to pull away._

_Virika's face was a bright red and her breathing ragged. Tanlin looked down at her his eyes soft and dark._

_There was a long moment of silence._

_"I love you," he said._

Virika wiped the glistening tears that slid down her face away with the back of her hand. There was no use in crying—what did it accomplish? She took a steady deep breath and rose from the floor.

She stood in front of the window again. It was dark now and all she could see were millions upon millions of twinkling stars in the blue black sky. Virika stared out at the stars thinking about her situation.

Without even seeming to notice it she put one foot on the window sill. Using her hands she pushed herself upward until her silhouette filled the opening of the window. Virika didn't look down at that void below her. She held on tight to the stones that framed the window her heard looking up at the heavens.

Virika shut her eyes tight. Deeply she breathed in and out standing there in the open window. A rough wind played tag with her dress wiping it around her legs and pulling tendrils of hair to frame her face. There was an echo of a bird a far way off.

She was jerked backwards suddenly her hands ripped from the stones scratching her palms. She was pulled backwards flush against a warm body, strong arms griping around her waist.

"What the _hell_ were you doing?" his voice had an edge of menace to it. But there was also something else. Something like a breathless worry hidden underneath his malice.

Virika stared straight ahead not daring to move from his grasp. He held her tightly like a drowning man to a single piece of driftwood. "I was looking at the stars," she said.

Murtagh snorted. "Liar."

Virika tried to twist so that she could see his face but his hands held her fast. She was forced to answer him without gauging his reaction.

"I was going to kill myself," she replied truthful this time.

The pressure around her torso increased as his arms constricted around her. She let out a squeak as all the air was forced from her lungs. Her legs became weak and she was forced to slump against Murtagh in order to keep upright.

"You are not allowed to kill yourself until I deem it okay," he said in a guttural growl, "you are _my _slave."

"I won't be your slave for long," Virika spat with as much venom as she could muster.

Murtagh chuckled low in her ear and Virika felt one of his arms move from her waist to trail down her leg. He held her pressed tight to his body and Virika could feel her back on all of his hard muscles.

She stopped breathing as his hand skimmed the thigh where her dagger was hidden. Murtagh passed by it but then with a small hiss went back up her thigh to feel the dagger through her dress.

Roughly he yanked at her dress ripping a panel of it off and exposing her long white leg with the dagger strapped to it. Virika waited for him to punish her with bated breath. Instead she felt his chest shake with laughter.

"You meant to kill me with this?" he asked tearing it from her leg with one strong pull. "Naughty, naughty," he dropped the cloth and dagger to the floor with a clang. Murtagh moved his lips so that they were on Virika's ear. "You'll have to be punished for that."

The hand that had been caressing her thigh moved up her abdomen higher and higher. With each soft touch Virika's breathing quickened. His hand brushed the swell of her breasts and Virika sucked in her breath with a gasp.

Murtagh's tongue licked at her ear causing her to gasp. He chuckled the sound tickling her sensitive skin.

"S—stop," Virika managed to say as his hand caressed her shoulders and collarbones now. He gently pulled down the short sleeves on both shoulders so that they fell off her shoulders and exposed more of her breasts.

Murtagh laughed at her complaint. "You won't be saying that for long."

Virika opened her mouth to say more but Murtagh's hand was suddenly on top of her breasts tracing circles on the left and then the right. Her breathing was coming fast now much to her disgrace.

Seeing the effect he had on her Murtagh trailed his fingers down into the space between her breasts before cupping her left breast. Virika stiffened against his body and tried to pull away at his touch but he held her against him in a grip of iron.

He pinched her nipple making it pucker and turn hard at his touch before rubbing a soothing thumb over it. Virika gasped and involuntarily arched her back at the delicious sensation that his warm hand over her breast gave her.

Murtagh placed his lips on the base of her neck while gently kneading her breast. Dizzying warmth spread throughout Virika's stomach and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her lips.

Murtagh slowly brought his other arm up to perform the same treatment on Virika's other breast delighting in the fact that he no longer had to restrain her. Virika's head tipped back at Murtagh's touch and she was aware pressed up against his back as she was that he too was enjoying this.

His hard body was pressed against her back and she could feel his erection rubbing against her. Virika's head lay against Murtagh's shoulder and he took advantage of that position by dipping his head down to capture her lips.

Their tongues played a game of dominance in their mouths each one swirling and tangling with the other. At the same time Murtagh ran his hands down the length of Virika's body lower and lower till he pressed on her mound.

Virika whimpered when he removed his hands from her breasts but then moaned as he pressed against her hot core.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked in her mouth before nipping her on the jaw with his teeth.

Virika couldn't respond she could only lean back against his weight as his hands made their way back up to her breasts. The heat that she felt flowing through her body was so much that her mind wasn't functioning. She could only think of how pleasurable Murtagh's hands and mouth were.

He placed a kiss on her collarbone before sucking hard at the spot he had just so chastely kissed. Meanwhile his hands moved over her breasts pulling and pinching her nipples making them tighten and darken with color.

Murtagh couldn't wait to see those breasts. Feeling them was good, but seeing Virika's naked body spread out beneath him—that would be even better. A searing heat of lust spread throughout his loins at that thought and he was painfully aware of his need.

He steered Virika to his bed laying her across it so that her legs dangled off the edge. Her eyes were lidded with lust and she lay there watching him patiently. Murtagh leaned down over her his hands still on her breasts to place a kiss on the hollow at her neck.

"Tell me you like it," he said pressing his body down on hers before nibbling her earlobe causing her to moan. "Tell me. Tell me Rika," he said again.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her name and he saw that they were no longer clouded with lust. One clear violet eye and one clear blue eye stared up at him with so much fear and anger that for a moment he was glad that he had removed the crude dagger she had made.

Something flashed in her eyes as she placed both hands on his chest and pushed hard at him.

"No!" she said emphatically giving him another shove.

This one sent him falling backwards startled at the amount of strength she seemed to have just acquired.

"No," she said her voice a low growl. The power around her vibrated and hummed. Murtagh looked at her with alarm for a split second before muttering the words under his breath that sent her to the ground with a cry of pain.

Looking down at her, Murtagh had the sinking feeling that seducing his beautiful slave wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped.

..................................................

_Oh snap! Just what has Murtagh gotten himself into? btw...you know what would make Murtagh verrrryyy happy (besides a nice lay, i mean)? if you left me a review. ;)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the long hiatus. School is murdering me. I have so many papers to write it's ridiculous. And my we finally started Fiction writing in my CW class...which terrifies me. I mean--I've chosen creative writing as a major...what if my prof thinks i'm terrible at it? We only had to write a two page scene with conflict and I ended up writing two seperate ones because I couldn't decide whether or not the first one was good enough. -sigh- Anywho, enough with my angst about school._

_This chapter lacks m/v stuff...but it explains some things. I hope you like it. And once again I'm sorry about not updating. _

......................................................................

To say that Virika's eyes held only hatred in them would be a lie. They also held an ounce of fear and more than a little lust leftover from Murtagh. She was breathing heavily her chest rising fast. Virika's hands clutched her burning ankle as she looked up at Murtagh.

He was staring down at her his eyes reflecting the same as hers. He was quiet as he stared at her. The humming sound of power coming from her was slowly subsiding. When it was gone Murtagh murmured the words to make the anklet stop burning Virika.

Murtagh approached her slowly like one would a venomous snake. Indeed, Virika looked for all the world like a wounded animal just ready to strike the next person who came along. Her eyes followed his movements accusingly.

Roughly Murtagh jerked Virika to her feet. He held both her wrists in his hands and when she tried to move away he shook her viciously. Virika glared up at the man holding her captive feeling something move in her heart. She wanted to hate him—wanted so much to detest this man but she found she couldn't. The way his dark eyes shone down on her made her heart beat speed up and the fingers that gripped her wrists tightly scorched her skin.

Just being near him made Virika want to taste his lips again. Made her want to feel his body against hers. Her rapid breathing came faster now as she remembered what only moments ago he had just done—how he had just made her _feel_.

"Why did you push me away?" he asked her harshly.

Virika turned her head from his searing gaze. She didn't want these feelings that were rushing through her—she wanted them to go away. Ignoring him she stared down at the floor blankly.

Murtagh looked down at her watching how when she avoided his gaze and looked at the floor her hair had fallen around her face. Those copper curls contrasting sharply with her fair skin. A single curl slipped off her neck once again revealing that strange tattoo behind her ear.

"Why did you push me?" he asked again with a deadly cold tone.

Virika realized that he would hurt her again if she didn't answer and turned back to face him. The expression on her face was cold, blank and remote. Murtagh felt a surge of something flow through him at the expression.

"Because you called me Rika," she whispered flatly.

Murtagh let out a humorless chuckle. "I can call you whatever I want, _slave_. You forget, I am the Master here. If I want to call you Rika I can. You have no say in the matter."

Fury hot and dangerous as lightning flashed in Virika's eyes. "Don't call me that," she said softly her mouth twisting in a grimace.

"Rika," Murtagh answered with a sneer. "I shall call you what I wish."

"Stop it."

"Ah, ah, ah, Rika, you don't get to make the rules. You're only allowed to obey them," Murtagh mocked.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Virika cried out her eyes filling with tears. She tried desperately to pull away from Murtagh. She thrashed against him, pounding at his chest and attempting to kick his shins.

Murtagh remained impassive as she struggled to move away from him. Even when her tiny foot made contact with his leg he didn't move—his grip was iron clad. Instead he laughed at her outburst. It was a mocking, cold laugh, one without humor or feeling. It was a laugh that covered up Murtagh's real feelings. The feelings he had that made him want to reach out and wipe the tears from her face.

"STOP IT! LET ME GO!" Virika was desperate.

"No, I won't," Murtagh paused for effect, "Rika."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she yelled with anger. "Only Tanlin's allowed—!"

The pressure on her wrists increased and Virika gasped in the middle of her outburst at the crippling pain it caused. She wavered and her knees almost gave out.

Murtagh's face was one of twisted anger. "Tanlin?"

Virika remained silent the tears streaming down her face and landing on Murtagh's arms. She stared at him refusing to answer.

Suddenly, Murtagh smiled causing Virika to shiver. "That name, it does sound familiar. Very familiar."

_Virika marched straight to the queen her eyes blank and her mind made up. Through the rows of nobles and others she marched. The short figure looking insignificant and plain next to these tall beings. The elves watching made no move to stop the girl as she approached Queen Islanzadi._

_"I will do it. I will go into the capital and gather information. I'm a human—I would not be suspected," Virika said with bravery._

_Queen Islanzadi stood and looked down at the human who stood in front of her. The human's fists were clenched and her chin trembled but Queen Islanzadi could feel the fierce determination in the child. She frowned—there was something else coming from this girl._

_"Virika is it? Why do you wish to go on this mission? Do you know that you could be killed?"_

_"I know I could be killed, but I wish to go anyway."_

_The queen nodded and motioned for Virika to follow her out of the great hall. Outside the queen led Virika to a garden grown by the elves and filled with an array of gorgeous flowers blossoming even though it was fall. The flowers gave of a thick, sweet aroma that would make normal humans drowsy. Twilight blanketed the garden and all its plants in a sea of blues and purples._

_Virika followed the beautiful queen out into this garden stopping only when the queen did. Turning, Queen Islanzadi looked down at the human with sorrow in her eyes._

_"Why do you want to go Virika?" she asked softly._

_Virika's fists clenched tighter making her knuckles turn white. "I want to help."_

_Islanzadi blinked her eyes slowly like a cat. "I know you wish to help. But I would like to know why all of the sudden you want to." She wandered towards one of the rose bushes that were in the garden and carefully plucked a rose from the plant. She looked back at Virika. "You were raised by our kind so I have no doubt that you would be more than capable of learning things in the capital. You have a personal interest in this do you not?"_

_Virika's eyes widened and she quickly shut them squeezing them tightly. After a moment of silence she opened her shiny eyes back up. "Yes," she said softly before taking a deep breath. "I wish to avenge someone."_

_It was the queen's turn to widen her eyes. She stared at the girl. "Surely not your parents—they died here with us of natural causes."_

_"No. Not my parents," Virika replied trying to keep her tears from over flowing, "A—a . . . friend."_

_Queen Islanzadi's eyes softened at the tone of Virika's voice. She looked at the girl again. She was looking at the grass and kept sniffling as though to keep from crying. Her hands were still clenched tightly and she shook slightly. _

_"Tanlin," Islanzadi said quietly._

_Virika's eyes snapped up from the grass. The queen sighed at the look in the girl's eyes. "Tanlin is this . . . friend. I see."_

_Virika shook her head back and forth violently. "No, you don't."_

_Queen Islanzadi raised an eyebrow._

_"You don't see," continued Virika in a strong voice, "because we're still out here discussing this when I could be on my way by now. We're standing here discussing _why _I should go instead of _when _I should go. I want to help. I want to avenge Tanlin. I don't want to sit around in a tree watching everyone else being useful and _doing _something when I can't! I don't want to be this pathetic watcher—a—a burden any longer! I just—I just want—"_

_The queen looked on as the child dissolved into tears. "You just want him back."_

_"Yes," Virika whispered, "more than anything. I want Tanlin back."_

_Queen Islanzadi watched as the girl wiped her tears on her sleeves and met her gaze straight on never flinching. She was determined, motivated and although her first explanation was logical enough for the queen to say yes, Queen Islanzadi had wanted to make sure. Islanzadi reached a long graceful hand out to Virika pressing the rose into her hands._

_"Go," Queen Islanzadi said. "Go and avenge Tanlin."_

_Virika's grip on the rose tightened as she turned and ran her blood leaving a trail in her wake._

_As the queen watched her run away she spoke softly to herself. _

_"Marked she is by the lady of the night_

_And by the arrow pointing to the path_

_Power that destroys is the birthright--_

_The power that the marked will have_

_The one who is marked_

_And not raised by her own_

_Will fall into the dark._

_And here her true power will be known."_

_.................................................................................................._

_I apologize for my crappy poetry skills. Lol._

_reviews are nice. :)_


End file.
